Kickball: A celebration

My coworkers have formed a kickball squad that competes in a five-team league on the city's north side. It's really quite something, as I never thought I'd see grown-ups playing kickball in an organized competition. I played a couple weeks ago, but due to recurring knee problems (coupled with the fact that my health insurance has yet to kick in) I've had to be relegated to the disabled list. In related news, I'm apparently a worthless, worthless cripple. On the upside, I'm now the team's full-time third base coach. Wednesday was my first night in this role, and I thoroughly enjoyed it.

The duties of a kickball third base coach essentially entail proclaiming to everyone how many outs there are, telling people when to run, and in my case, checking out the cute gal on the other team in the pink shorts with the powerful thighs. It's what I do.

Our squad lost a tight contest to the best team in the league Wednesday, but I think we're sandbagging for the tournament, which is slated to be held in a couple of weeks. And I'll tell you, I like it. Much like the Russians over the last two decades, we're playing possum and are ready to strike. I can tell it's going to be a cutthroat battle for domination, but I wouldn't bet against us.

What's funny is seeing the different levels of competitiveness from the combatants. Since it's a co-ed league, you have a lot of women who don't care, guys who apparently believe the outcome will dictate their manhood, and people like myself who are more focused on women in pink shorts.

All told, I'd say it's an enjoyable activity and reason number 437 why I'm glad I moved back to Indy. For those interested, you can find out more about future leagues here.